


A Knot Tied Tight

by Aondeug



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A/B/O, F/F, It's just the game canon but if it was omegaverse, Knotting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omegaverse, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:21:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23552254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aondeug/pseuds/Aondeug
Summary: Mating season is an awkward and frustrating time for all, whatever they may be. Edelgard von Hresvelg is stronger than nature though. Enough to boast of it. She must be as the future emperor of Adrestia. Can that iron will of hers hold though when she is face to face with her professor at the peak of her heat?
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	A Knot Tied Tight

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [エデレスおめがば](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/580219) by 永沢(Nagasawa). 



It was supposed to be   
But a simple task:  
Take the food,  
Knock the door,  
Leave the food.  
Simple.  
Easy.  
Anyone could do it.

But she?  
She rose to task,  
Denying all others  
Even the attempt  
Saying proudly,  
“I am House leader,”  
“She teaches our House,”  
“There is no danger.”

She boasted loudly  
This and more  
To all about her,  
Even as they brought forth  
What seemed obvious  
To all in that room;  
That the season had come  
And Edelgard?

_She was an alpha._

But more than that  
She had self control.  
Her will,  
It was ironfirm, strong.  
It’d take much more  
Than a simple heat  
To break her spirits,  
To make her a beast.

After all,  
How many had she denied?  
How many were ignored?  
The number was great,  
And even those who joked  
Like Dorothea, the biggest critic,  
Were rebuffed soundly.  
Her professor?  
She would be added   
Right onto that long count.

She told herself this  
As she took the tray  
And as she walked   
Through the halls  
To the Professor’s room.

She told herself this  
As Dorothea joked  
That it was the season  
Which had riled her up  
Till she took to guarding  
That professor so dear.

She told herself this  
Standing at the door  
Of her professor’s room  
And the heady scent  
Of the Professor’s heat  
Hit her hard and fast.

Edelgard,  
She was emperor to be  
And she hid herself  
Deep in the shadows   
She would not break.  
Not to this,   
Not now, not ever.

That fact reaffirmed  
She took one hand  
To the door, knocking,  
And at the asking  
She answered firm  
That it was her, Edelgard,  
With a plate of food  
For her, her teacher,  
Who’d taken to bed  
Because of damnable heat.

“Sure,”  
Was the answer  
Seeming pained,  
With a breath to it  
That made the heart leap,  
Seeking more than that,  
Those breaths.

But Edelgard,  
She had a job  
And a face to maintain,  
And so she brushed  
That feeling aside  
As she opened the door  
To her professor’s room,  
Feeling sure and ready  
As before any battle  
That her teacher had led.

And lead it she did  
With a scent heavy and thick,  
And cheeks flushed deep  
As Edelgard closed the door,  
For her teacher’s dignity.

This is what   
She told herself  
As she stepped   
To rest the tray  
Upon the desk,  
And as her eyes  
Came to rest   
Upon the Professor.

It was a sorry state.  
The Professor, so great,  
Clinging to a pillow  
Pressed close, tight,  
Right to her chest,  
And her thighs  
They closed tight  
‘round blankets,  
And she could only  
Let out a weak, “Thank you.”

_And there was the scent._

Edelgard was but Edelgard  
And Edelgard,  
She was but an alpha  
And she felt then  
The pangs of need peeking. 

“Are you well, my teacher?”  
She asked standing up,  
Seeking to right her will  
Right back on target,  
Sharp as it ever was.

But a groan came  
From her teacher’s throat  
And a sharp intake of air  
Before a shaking sigh  
As they locked eyes,  
The Professor’s wide  
And hers the same,  
More than like.

“Not too well…”  
Were the words that fell  
And her teacher shifted  
Rubbing her thighs  
Against her blankets,  
A sight to which  
Edelgard,   
Her eyes did trail,  
Drawn hard  
To the origin of it,  
That damnable heat.

And she coughed,  
Shutting her eyes tight  
Before apologizing there  
And when asked “What for?”  
She could only find   
A dumb “Ah, well…”  
For she had found  
Red peeking ever the more.

Her eyes closed,  
It was more a hurt  
Than it was a help,  
For it left her with but  
The heavy scent  
Of her teacher’s heat  
And the siren sound  
Of her teacher’s pant.

Yet,  
When she opened them,  
Her eyes,  
Once more  
She saw her,  
The Professor,  
Her teacher so dear  
Laid out on her back.

_Ah_

And Edelgard stepped forth  
As the Professor grumbled,  
Muttering out something  
She didn’t quite catch.

But Edelgard’s will,  
It was iron strong  
And her advance paused  
At one step, then two,  
With a word of concern:  
“I could speak with Professor Manuela.”

“She came by earlier,  
It’s not helped much…”

The words,  
She heard them,  
She parsed them,  
She held them  
Til the slipped through  
Her fingers,  
Grains of sands, the words  
For the Professor’s legs spread,  
Releasing the blankets:  
A welcome.

**A need.**

It was supposed to be  
But a simple task,  
To ignore it,  
The call of the season.  
She bragged as much,  
Edelgard did,  
To all before her  
Until now before her  
Lay her professor so dear  
And a longing red.

She stepped forth  
With a haste  
Saying something  
About Manuela  
And herbal teas  
Still seeking to hold  
Firm and tight  
As she bent down  
And forward to rest  
Her hand on her’s,  
the Professor’s bed.

Her teacher  
Looked up  
And her will  
Came down  
For a word formed  
With more behind  
And none were heard  
Though they were,  
For her hand  
Had gone to the waist  
Of her, her teacher  
Whose hand itself  
Went to her own.

A touch,  
A sight, a sound,  
_A scent._

But the Professor pushed  
Her hand off and away,  
And she was in control,  
But the Professor pushed  
Her shorts right down  
And it could not be ignored.

Edelgard watched and breathed,  
As her Professor pulled  
Off her shorts, then stockings,  
Then underwear next,  
And Edelgard pushed  
Her own shorts down,  
Then stockings, then underwear next,  
Ignoring her shirts  
And the Professor’s own  
For it was free at last,  
A deep red poking   
From her sheath.

She crawled onto the bed  
And pulled the Professor up  
And over to her,  
As the woman sighed,  
Head laid back, face to the side.

_And her legs spread._

A hand wrapped under  
Her professor so dear,  
Another on the shoulder  
Of her teacher so near.

She was there, right there  
And Edelgard pressed   
Up and against, her hips rolling  
Looking to find the source,  
The origin of it,   
This heat and the red,  
And the red rose the more  
Driven on by thrusts a  
And on contact,  
So light, so flighty,   
Not nearly enough  
To sprout forth   
Full and ready.

The Professor moaned  
A light rumble of need  
As she raised her hips,  
An accommodating roll,  
As Edelgard thrust  
Seeking it, the hole. 

She could feel it, she could,  
Oh, yes, she could.  
Warm heat, wet heat,  
Ready, waiting, needing,  
But the red was not yet  
A sword, only a dagger as yet.

But she could feel it  
And with a growl  
She buried her face  
Against the Professor  
As the woman wrapped  
Her arms about her,  
As she thrust on and on,  
The red peeking more and more  
At the wet, at the heat  
Till at last!

_She found the mark!_

She found it, she found it,  
She was in, in her  
And she pushed the red,  
Further, deeper, as she could,  
And she rolled her hips,  
Goading it, needing it  
To stretch out in full,  
Erect and ready, her cock,  
And as the Professor moaned  
And Edelgard thrust ever on  
It slid forth in full,  
Erect and ready, her cock.

It was out at last  
And it was all she could do  
But fuck, fast and fierce,  
As a pressure built  
In the base of her dick,  
Intense and fierce,  
A need for release  
Which roused a groan  
From her throat  
As it slipped in, the knot,  
Deep inside her,  
The Professor so dear,  
And the professor there,  
From her there came   
Contractions which clamped down,  
Tight and firm to it,  
To Edelgard’s dick  
Tying them tight, the both there.

Edelgard thrust on and on  
Driven ever on by a need  
To spill forth into her,  
Her teacher so dear  
Who moaned and clung  
To her back, her shirts, tight,  
And as the pressure built  
It spilled forth and forth,  
Out and into her,   
Her teacher so dear,  
And still she went and went  
Till at last she was spent  
As the last left her, spilled out  
Into the professor so near.

And it was then  
As the haze cleared  
From her head, free at last,  
And it was then   
As she pulled forth  
From her teacher, free at last,  
That it hit her hard and fast.

It was supposed to be  
But a simple task  
And her will was firm,  
But firmer and simpler than both  
Was the knot that bound them tight  
For a good ten minutes then more.


End file.
